


Spock Solves a Problem

by Fuinixe



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Kirk likes sex, M/M, Polyamory, Pre-Slash, Threesome - F/M/M, Uhura might ship Kirk and Spock, Vulcan problems, and who can blame her really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 08:19:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuinixe/pseuds/Fuinixe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock wants to meet all of Uhura's needs. Kirk can help with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spock Solves a Problem

Spock had warned Nyota early on that dating a Vulcan was not the same as dating a human. She hadn’t stopped pursuing him. He enjoyed kissing her, the warmth of her lips on his skin and her body through their clothing. The way she stroked the fine hairs at the back of his neck soothed him. But he did not get aroused.

Many months into their relationship, she had joined him back at his officer’s quarters, and at first things had proceeded as usual. Spock expected to lie beside her, hold hands, and kiss until they drifted off to sleep. But instead, Nyota had inquired about how he felt about her shedding her uniform and abstaining from sleeping garments.

“Your nudity would not trouble me.” Nyota had smiled at that, and once more Spock was relieved that he’d found a paramour—or she had found him—and she could read between the lines of his calm precision. 

Wearing only her undergarments, Nyota had crawled between the sheets.

“Let me know if I make you uncomfortable,” she whispered.

“Of course,” he responded in kind, inferring that her reduced volume sprang not from a concern for privacy, which would have been illogical as human speech never permeated the walls, but from a desire for a sense of intimacy. He was improving at surmising her motivations, an accomplishment for which he felt pride was a legitimate result. This human, at least, made sense to him. She made more sense every day.

“Touch me?”

He’d stroked the smooth skin of her back, her side, her thigh, and she had sighed happily into the small space between their mouths. Spock, too, was pleased. Nyota’s obvious pleasure made him feel more suitable as her partner and relieved some of the burden that hovered near his shoulders, the knowledge that he could not give her the kind of intimacy most human partners practiced. Her hand did not stray from his hip, her thumb pressing gently into the taut muscle there. He was glad. She would have found only softness. His next pon farr was still three years away.

“Spock.” He drew his head back on their shared pillow just enough to meet her eyes. They were mesmerizing. He liked to stare into them and meditate upon the beauty of the universe. “Stop me if you don’t want…” and she gently moved his hand between her legs, holding his fingers so that they slipped between skin and fabric. She inhaled sharply when the pads of his fingers brushed her outer folds. He pressed his forehead to hers, closed his eyes, and trailed his fingers along the damp cleft before dipping inside.

Her inner folds were so hot and wet and slick that he froze momentarily, startled by the contrast. Her eyes fluttered open. “Something wrong?” she panted.

“No,” he replied firmly, and slid his fingers back and forth, marveling at the near absence of friction. He knew his fingertips would begin to wrinkle if he kept his hand there for more than a couple minutes.

“But,” and her eyes flickered down to his crotch and its lack of interest in the proceedings. “Are you—do you even—“

He raised himself up on his other elbow to lean over and kiss her. “Ssssh.” Another kiss, this one deeper, and neither of them missed the symmetry of the push of his tongue between her lips at the same time he dipped his forefinger into her hole. “I am enjoying myself.” Kiss. “You are beautiful.” Kiss. “Do not worry about me.”

The last of the day’s tension bled out of her body, and she sank blissfully into his embrace and exploratory ministrations.

 

“Jim.” Spock followed him into the elevator.

“Spock,” Kirk replied. Spock’s response was to reach out to the button panel and pause the elevator’s descent. Kirk added that action to Spock’s informal greeting—the beginning of a personal conversation—and felt his heart speed up.

Spock turned so they were facing each other. “Do you find Lieutenant Uhura attractive?”

“Do I— _what?_ ” Kirk sputtered. “No!”

“Allow me to rephrase. You find Lieutenant Uhura attractive.”

“Well, okay, yeah, but—“ Kirk raised his hands up, palms out in a gesture meant to convey nonthreatening intent. “I would never do anything about it!”

“What if I asked you to?”

Kirk tilted his head slightly to the side and squinted at Spock. “Is this a trick question?”

Spock refrained from sighing. “No.”

“In that case, I’m gonna need a drink before we continue this conversation.”

Spock saw his opening. “I would be happy to share a libation with you in my quarters this evening.”

Kirk opened his mouth and then shut it with a click. “Great. It’s a date.”

Spock leaned toward the button panel and set the lift back in motion. “Indeed.” Kirk couldn’t be certain, but he thought he glimpsed the corner of Spock’s mouth twitch upward ever so slightly.

 

Kirk couldn’t say he was surprised to find Uhura seated at the table when he entered Spock’s quarters. In his head, he’d been replaying his conversation with Spock all day and trying to guess at what the hell was going on. The fact that he’d already considered it a strong possibility didn’t curb his reaction when Spock and Uhura confirmed it.

“A threesome?!” Kirk coughed into his fist, embarrassed that his voice had come out much higher in pitch and volume than he would have liked. 

Uhura leaned forward. “Are you in or not?”

Kirk practically rolled his eyes at her. “There is not a big enough ‘duh’ in the world for that question.”

“I do not understand that terminology,” Spock murmured, half to himself.

“It means god yes, I am in. I am so very in. But…” Kirk squinted at Uhura. “I thought you didn’t even like me?”

Uhura leaned back in her chair and smirked. “I didn’t. But you’ve grown on me. And…”

“And?”

“And even if I didn’t like you on your own, I like you together.”

“Together? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Uhura didn’t answer, but her smile widened into a grin. Kirk had a growing suspicion that she and Spock were playing footsie under the table.

Kirk refilled his shot glass and took a large swallow. He opened his mouth and closed it, looked between his best friend and his oldest friend—well, if you counted all that time after they met when she barely tolerated him. “Don’t mistake this for reluctance, but—what if this blows up in our faces? I don’t wanna damage your relationship.” He met Spock’s gaze and held it. _I don’t wanna damage our relationship_ , he thought. Spock’s face softened minutely. 

“You won’t,” responded Uhura—no, Nyota. If they were going to do this, he wanted her to be Nyota. “We’ve discussed this extensively.”

“Okay, so—no jealousy, or any of that bullcrap?” Kirk was pretty sure he would feel jealous if he were in Spock’s position.

“Why would you feel jealous of me, Captain?” Spock asked, deadpan.

“Are—are you teasing me?” Kirk grinned at Spock and then at Nyota. “I think he’s teasing me.”

“I think you’re right,” she responded, eyes dancing. She pushed her chair back from the table and stood, emptying the last drops of whiskey onto her tongue before clinking her green shot glass back down on the table. “Let’s do this.”

 

This event was not proceeding in full accordance with Spock’s projections.

He’d been kissing Nyota’s shoulder softly, tongue flicking out to taste the salt of her sweat-slick skin. His left hand cupped her breast gently. He was still wearing his boxer briefs, outer garments long since shed in concession to the warmth generated amongst the three of them upon his two-person mattress. The heat rolled off Jim and Nyota in waves and he basked in it, feeling nothing but serenity and a quiet happiness amidst the rocking of the bed and Nyota’s soft moans. Her knees were bent over Kirk’s broad shoulders, and she used the leverage to angle her pelvis up and down in time with Kirk’s thrusts. 

Then he happened to look up at Jim’s face at the same time as Jim glanced at his, and Spock felt a current like electricity spark along his skin at the same time he felt his stomach clench. Kirk’s hips didn’t falter, but Spock had the impression that Jim, too, felt something unprecedented. He didn’t break eye contact, and Spock’s gaze took in his cheeks and forehead, flushed pink, his slightly damp hair, his dilated pupils that somehow made the rings of his irises even more captivating. They were blue-green crystal and Spock couldn’t look away. He licked his lips, suddenly dry, and watched Jim’s eyes follow the motion.

That was when he felt heat pooling in his groin.

Taken aback, Spock turned his head back into Nyota’s shoulder, which was when he realized he’d stopped breathing momentarily. He sucked oxygen back into his lungs while analyzing the strange moment with Jim. Words like “voyeurism” and “homosexuality” flitted through his mind, human concepts to label the seemingly endless varieties of sexual preferences and habits amidst Earth’s most notorious residents. A Vulcan’s sex life was much more straight-forward and its main goal was undoubtedly procreation. Mate every seven years. Then get on with life. 

But Spock was only half-Vulcan. _And only half-hard_ , he thought, somewhat hysterically.

Banishing the troubling thoughts from his mind, he raised up to kiss Nyota full on the mouth and brought his hand down to her clitoris. Soon, she moaned and bucked her hips and came, and Spock didn’t stop kissing her. He heard Jim’s breath stutter at the same time his hips sped up, and Spock felt almost overwhelmed with the desire to pull back and look into Jim’s eyes and watch his face through his ecstasy, but he pushed the desire down deep and kept his lips fixed to Nyota’s. When Kirk’s body locked up and he let out a long, low moan, Spock just screwed his eyes shut tighter and continued to kiss Nyota gently, drawing out her whimpers and happy sighs.

The burst of happiness in Spock’s chest when Kirk settled down on his other side, trapping Spock in the middle, was hard to explain. When Spock chanced a glance at Jim’s face, his eyes were closed, which drew a mix of relief and disappointment. _Too many emotions_ , thought Spock. _What is happening to me?_

 

Kirk felt so satisfied and heavy and loose-limbed, he could hardly contemplate getting out of bed, much less returning to his own cabin, but he didn’t want to overstay his welcome.

“Izit ‘kay if I fall ‘sleep here?”

Nyota hummed her assent and burrowed into Spock’s other side at the same time as Spock answered softly, “Quite.” Kirk drew the blankets up over his shoulder, which was quickly cooling from the effects of drying sweat, and squished the spare pillow around so it better supported his neck. After a moment of hesitation, he slung his arm over Spock’s bare back, Jim’s fingertips resting on Nyota’s overheated skin. When Spock defied his expectations and didn’t tense up—if anything, he relaxed minutely—Kirk smiled to himself and left it there.

Spock took much longer than Kirk and Uhura to fall asleep, but when he finally did, he slept just as soundly as they.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Star Trek fic. Please leave feedback! Particularly about Kirk's characterization and his pre-threesome conversation with Uhura and Spock. Is there a way to remove the present-day colloquialisms while preserving the humor of that scene?
> 
> I'm looking for a beta. If you'd like to help and you're also in Avengers fandom, I will love you forever.


End file.
